Loyal readers now know that my never ending saga of bad luck with bicycles takes another interesting turn on Friday night. What should have been a pleasant evening trying out some new restaurant and procuring a respectably strong bike lock(s) to deter thieves and lowlifes became a humbling lesson in paying attention to the task before me.
I purchased 2 new bike locks. One of which is a thicker, more robust version of the cable variety, something thick, but not too thick. A portable, yet beefy steel cable that wouldn't give a way the goods without a bit of work on the part of the thief, of a size roughly between what I can comfortably carry on a commute around town and the monstrous thread used to suspend chairs on ski lifts.
The other bike lock I purchased was of the U-shaped solid metal variety, the kind that requires A LOT of work on the part of a thief if he wishes to get in. I was gambling that this might be the key to protecting my assets from the lowlifes for the foreseeable future. I'm hoping that one of three things will happen here: 1. The thief will be too stupid to know how to get past it. (a real possibility since he most likely steals bikes to support a drug or alcohol habit). 2. He's too lazy to get past it (why take a hacksaw to this leviathan when there's another bike nearby with ONLY ONE SMALL LOCK?) Or 3. He has to spend a very conspicuous amount of time with a hacksaw, and will therefore more likely get caught if 1 and 2 don't stop him.
The lock is a super solid hulk of steel, as only a machinist in a country known for shipbuilding could think up. It weighs like 7 pounds. And I'm sure it would be super effective. Tragically, it has one critical design flaw that I discovered upon using it for the first time: it wasn't designed for doofuses like me.
I took the U shaped bar and threaded it through the wheel spokes and bike frame. But then I took the completely detachable locking gate and threaded it up the wrong end of the U-shaped bar. With the keyhole flush straight up against the bike frame. Leaving me unable to put a key in upon my return. Meaning the lowlife who has to spend the better part of a day with a hacksaw is now me.
I called a couple of friends to help me, but neither were available to drive me and my bike back home. So I walked home for 40 minutes, leaving my bike down by Sangnamdong, a local commercial office and busy entertainment district. At least I'm confident it won't be going anywhere! Unfortunately, as far as my bike is concerned, there isn't much else to be happy about.